


Fuzzy

by enchantedlokii



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantedlokii/pseuds/enchantedlokii
Summary: Prompt: Fainting
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50
Collections: IronDad





	Fuzzy

Why did Peter think it was a good idea to not tell Mr. Stark that he was a diabetic? Well, honestly, at first he didn’t think it was too important. He had been away from home before and managed just fine. He knew when to check his blood sugar and what to do with his insulin pump. He had been doing everything by himself for years now; he rarely let his Aunt May help him. And in Germany, everything went fine. The only issues was that the new skin-tight suit was uncomfortable around his pump.

He had a sugar crash right after the battle, but that was something he had gotten used to after the spider bite. He adjusted his insulin and was fine. Mr. Stark never noticed because, at the time, he was busy helping Colonel Rhodes.

As time went on, however, things became worse. It was becoming difficult for May to pay for the extra insulin doses that he needed with his spider metabolism, and he started to ration without telling her. He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he felt awful that he kept needing so much more. He knew that it truthfully wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty. He decided that he would rather deal with the dizzy spells and fainting than have May overwork herself to pay for his healthcare.

It wasn’t until after the Vulture that anyone knew what was going on.

Peter smiled as he pulled the baggy hoodie over his head. It wasn’t exactly cold outside yet, but it was effective to hide his pump. He quickly checked his sugar, grinning at the 122 that displayed on the monitor. It was higher than the doctors liked it to be, but it was still a safe number. He made sure that he had a few candy bars and a couple bottles of juice in his backpack before he slipped it on and made his way outside.

”Hi, Happy!” he greeted as he slipped into the back seat of the black suv. The man just grunted in reply as the teenager texted his aunt to let her know that he was leaving before starting his typical ramblings. “I can’t believe that Mr. Stark wants me to stay the _whole_ weekend! Do you think that I might get to see the other Avengers? Or Ms. Potts? I know I’ve met them before, but I could again!”

Peter didn’t mind that Happy only replied with an occasional annoyed noise. He was too excited to get to the compound. When he got there, he immediately headed inside where he was greeted by FRIDAY. “Hello, Mr. Parker. Boss has asked that you come to the workshop. Do you need directions?”

Peter felt his cheeks heat up because he did, in fact, need directions. He had only been to the workshop once before, and he couldn’t remember which way to go. He was grateful that he didn’t run into anyone, feeling embarrassed just at the thought.

Finally, he made it to the familiar room. “Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter chirped as he came inside. He couldn’t help but smile when Tony turned to look at him.

”Hey, Kid. Ready to get to work?”

Things went smoothly for the first few hours of Peter being at the compound. He was bubbly and talkative, questioning Tony about every little detail of what they were working on. So when the boy was quiet for more than a few minutes, Tony knew something wasn’t right. “You alright, Pete?” he asked, glancing over at the boy.

”Huh?” Peter looked up, a confused look in his eyes. He sounded tired, and Tony noticed he was shaking a bit. The boy blinked rapidly before shaking his head. “I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, noticing that the boy’s words seemed a bit slurred. “Are you sure, Kiddo? You don’t look too hot.” He instinctively raised the back of his hand to Peter’s forehead. He was surprised to find it hot and sticky.

Before Peter could reply, his eyes rolled back and he fell over, hitting the floor with a thump before Tony had time to react. “Peter!” He quickly jumped down beside the kid, taking his wrist and digging his fingers in. “FRIDAY? What’s going on?”

”Mr. Parker appears to be experiencing an episode of hypoglycemia,” FRIDAY explained. “It is suggested that he is given something with sugar when he comes to, which should be within two minutes.”

Tony was confused, but didn’t question it. He carefully picked the boy up and moved him to a couch. When he laid him down, he noticed that his eyes were starting to flutter open. “Pete? Are you with me?” he asked.

At first, Peter was quiet except for a soft whimper, but then his eyes started to open more, regaining clarity. “Mr. Stark?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What happened?”

”You passed out on me, Kiddo,” he explained, gently pushing the boy down by the shoulder when he tried to sit up. “FRIDAY said your sugar dropped.”

Peter groaned and glanced towards his backpack that was laying nearby. He stared at it for a moment before looking up at Tony. “You want that?” he asked, getting you to get it as the boy nodded. He brought it back and helped Peter sit up as he dug through it, pulling out a sealed bottle of apple juice. He tried to open it himself, failing with his shaky hands. He sighed and just stared at it, obviously frustrated.

“Here, Pete,” Tony took it and opened it, easily popping off the lid. Peter tried to take it and Tony pulled it away, warning a glare from the boy. “Let me help. You’ll just feel worse if you spill it and get all sticky.”

”I’m always sticky,” Peter mumbled, but he let Tony help him take a few small drinks of the juice. He was silent for a few minutes after he finished before leaning forward and pulling something out of his backpack. He didn’t look over as he stuck a piece of paper in the little device. He popped a cap off of another container that Tony realized had a needle inside. The boy twisted it on and held his breath as he pricked his finger, letting blood drip on the strip. “Fifty-eight. Still too low.”

”Here,” Tony opened the bottle again and helped him take another drink. “Just take it easy for a few minutes, okay? Try to relax.”

Peter nodded, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, mostly from embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he murmured after a beat of silence. “I should have told you. I-I don’t know why I didn’t.”

”Does this happen a lot?” Tony asked, not putting two and two together. He had assumed up until this point that the kid just hadn’t eaten and that was the cause for his sugar dropping. Then he looked at the device Peter was holding again; a blood glucose monitor. Most people didn’t just carry those around with them.

Peter sighed and pulled up the bottom of his shirt, revealing the device that he was hooked to. He took off the screen and started fidgeting with it, adjusting the numbers. “I, um. . .” he held up the device, not meeting Tony’s gaze. “I’m diabetic.”

”You should have told me, Pete,” Tony said softly, pulling the kid in for a sort of side hug. “What if this had been worse? If you hadn’t come to as quick as you did?”

Peter shrugged slightly, still looking down. He was quiet for a bit before groaning and rubbing his eyes. “Fuzzy,” he murmured.

”I’m no expert on this, but isn’t that thing supposed to prevent this from happening? Is it broken?” Tony asked. Peter tried to not become frustrated; he knew that the man was only worried. He could tell from the tone he was using.

”It works fine,” he sighed. “Just. . . With my enhanced metabolism, it needs a different dose. I haven’t exactly figured out a dose that works right yet, and May can’t really afford the extra insulin. So. . . Um, I. . . I’ve been rationing.”

”That’s not safe, Pete,” Tony said quietly, rubbing the boy’s arm. “You could have let me know and I would have helped you out, you know. With the dose and with paying for it.”

Peter shook his head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he replied. “And I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

”You wouldn’t be bothering me, Kiddo. It _would_ bother me if you ended up milking yourself because you’re too stubborn to ask for help,” Tony told him, giving him a stern look as he lowered Peter’s shirttail, covering the insulin pump. It was only then that Peter looked up at him. “Let’s get something to eat downstairs and then come and start working on figuring this out, alright?”

”You really don’t have to,” Peter told him, his voice quiet. “I’ll be okay, really.”

”I know I don’t have to. I want to,” Tony promised him. “I don’t want anything happening to you, you hear? I mean it. I’m glad to help out if it means you’re safe.”

Peter gave him a small smile, giving in to his kind words. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

”Anytime, Pete.”

**Author's Note:**

> This may not be completely accurate medically. I did research before writing the piece, but I neither have Type 1 Diabetes nor care for someone with Type 1 Diabetes. I apologize for an inaccuracies.


End file.
